A Little Bit Stronger
by everything's okay
Summary: It was tearing her up inside. She just wanted to be perfect and that seemed so unreachable. He was her fallen angel. The person who was going to help her see. MileyxNick. February: Eating Disorder Awarness Month.


**A Little Bit Stronger.**

She walked into the dimly lit room and turned on her heels as she heard the door close and the lock click.

"Miley," his soothing voice cooed.

"What are you doing here?" her voice was small, the words barely coming out. She spotted him across the room and she crossed her arms on her chest like it would protect her. The small sofa had been pushed to the side revealing a big, empty space between then. Much like the space she put between herself and the ones she loved.

"I'm here to help, Mi. You're not healthy,"

She let out a shaky laugh, "you help me? That's funny."

He stayed on the other side of the room. If this was going to work he had to give her space. Let her come to him when she was ready.

"Have you seen what you're doing to yourself, Miley?"

"I'm fine, can't you see? Just leave," her tone was dripping with hatred that'd been bottled up for five years.

"You don't have to act brave in front of me."

She wanted to walk forward and slap him. Take her anger out on him because he had no right, absolutely _no _right to come into her house and tell her what to do. But she couldn't seem to lift her feet off the ground.

"When was the last time you ate? Tell me," he said. His tone was snippy, egging her on. He wanted a good fight. After a fight she'd break and tell him what was eating her up inside. Literally, since she was getting skinner and skinner with each passing day.

"I ate just before I walked into this lame trap," she thought she was an expert liar but they both heard the frailness in her voice.

"What'd you have, Miles? Air?"

"Just shut up, Nick! This is my home and how dare you come here after everything we've been through and tell me of all people that I need help!"

He took one hesitant step forward. Not enough that he could touch her but he was taking baby steps.

"Do you want to end up like Demi?" he asked quietly. He took another step.

"Don't-" her voice cracked. "Don't talk about her."

The memories she tried so hard to destroy flooded her brain. The haunting images of finding her best friend out cold on the bathroom floor. Hip bones sticking out and the blood running down her wrist. It was all too much.

"Do you want to be underground at twenty two because you don't realize that you're perfect the way you are?" Two more.

"I know your Papi wouldn't want to see you up in heaven at such a young age. Don't you wanna be happy again, Miley?"

Another step.

Her eyes were filling with tears and her hands were clenched into fists.

"Nick,"

"Let me help you. Don't do this to yourself. You're so much better than this,"

One more step and he was there. Right in front of her.

"I don't need help. Especially not from you. You never really cared, never really loved me. You were never there,"

"I'm here when it matters, Mi. I'll always care,"

She didn't answer, just stared at him with eyes that he caught himself almost drowning in.

"Do you know what month it is?" he asked her slowly.

She shook her head in disbelief.

"Do you think I'm that stupid? Its February you dumb ass,"

"It's also eating disorder awareness month," he stood his ground even when the look in her eyes nearly knocked him over.

She could feel herself cracking, the dam threatening to spill over. She was sure he could see it too. He always read her better than anybody else.

He was there to catch her when she collapsed and finally let it all out. The pain she'd been feeling for what felt like years came out in tears, chocking sobs and screams. His arms wrapped protectively around her and he felt her bones through her thick sweatshirt.

"I won't let go. I promise," he whispered into her ear.

He smoothed out her hair as she cried into his shirt that was already soaked through.

"Hannah is over. My family is so broken and everyone in the world knows it," she sniffled.

"Nobody will come to shows when I put them on and people always trash talk my music," it felt so good to let it all out. Sort of freeing if you think about it. The weight that she felt on her shoulders decreased as some of it was transferred to Nick's shoulders.

"Everyone still calls me fat and I just can't seem to get any of it off my body,"

"Miley," he started. "Baby girl, you're not fat. You're beautiful and curvy and everything that a man wants!"

"I can barely get out of bed in the morning. It's all too much, Nick! Please-" the tears falling from her eyes increased greatly as she begged him. "Make it stop,"

He kissed the top of her head as she leaned on his shoulder. The way he was stroking her hair took away some of her anxiety. She so badly wanted to get rid of her inner demons, set them free and watch as they float away into the blackness of the universe. Once the tears had decreased and she was coming to terms with what she'd been doing to herself she started to play with the little curls at the base of his neck. It seemed like she'd been in his arms for hours but in reality it could've just been five minutes.

"Nicky, why'd you cut your hair?" she asked into his shoulder.

She missed his shaggy head of curls. They always reminded her of when they were two crazy fourteen year olds claiming they were madly in love.

"Just trying to grow up," his voice was calm and leveled compared to her shaky one.

"Don't. It's a waste of time,"

He looked down on her and she looked like her thirteen year old self again. She looked so helpless and defenseless wrapped in his arms. She looked up at him with her big doe eyes that had kept him hypnotized for almost ten years.

"God, Mi. You're so beautiful and talented and full of potential. How can you not see it?" he rested his forehead against hers and looked into her ocean eyes that seemed more blue than they've ever been.

"Help me. Don't let me go again," she closed her eyes and there was a hint of a smile on her face as he kissed her eyelids.

"Beautiful," he kissed her forehead.

"Elegant," then her cheek.

"Powerful," then the other side.

"Talented," then her small nose.

"And the only girl I've ever truly loved," then he kissed her full on the lips.

She couldn't keep up the game she played with herself. No more lying to herself and no more crying. She didn't want to destroy herself. Wear herself down until she was six feet under. She wanted to feel beautiful again and be the confident, outgoing girl – correction, _woman _– that she used to be. Thanks to the incredible man that stood in front of her, she was sure she could do it all. She'd get stronger with each passing day and never look back once. Not a glance, not a peek. The future was her only hope. He was her saving grace, her fallen angel.


End file.
